Jalen awoke beneath the shimmering canopy of the Light Tree, its radiant qi pulsing gently through the roots beneath him. His body felt heavy, but not broken. His spirit, however, was quiet—eerily so.
"How long was I out?" he asked, voice hoarse.
Light, standing nearby with arms folded and a faint glow around his form, turned toward him. "Ten days," he said. "You slept like a stone."
Jalen sat up slowly, his limbs aching with residual strain. He reached inward, checking his dantian and spirit sea. To his surprise, his cultivation was intact—still at mid Sage Realm. His qi flowed, albeit sluggishly, and his spirit domain remained stable. But something felt off. Hollow, almost.
"It seems that darn shard has gone dormant," Light said, his voice tinged with curiosity. "Now there's something you don't see every day. It must have really treasured you to make such a sacrifice."
Jalen frowned. "What do you mean?"
Light crouched beside him. "The Origin Shard called on power greater than your own to absorb the powers from that sealing formation, but it didn't store it within you or use it through you. It acted alone. Every eternal-grade spirit tool can do this, but using energy that vast without a capable wielder is suicidal. I'm sure that bastard is alright though—just weakened. It probably chose to shroud itself until its energy is restored."
Jalen absorbed the words in silence.
So that's why he felt hollow—it was due to the shard being dormant.
The shard had always been a mystery—an ally, a manipulator, a guide. It had helped him grow stronger, but it had also tricked him, withheld truths, and made decisions without his consent. This latest act, though seemingly noble, felt like another move in a game he didn't understand.
"I see," he said quietly. He didn't know how to feel. Gratitude? Suspicion? Both?
Light stood and clapped his hands. "Now that you're awake, it's time. I told that brat Zakai I'd send you up once you recovered. You're to be officially inducted as an elder of the Light Clan. But first, you need to wash and put on a change of clothes."
Jalen nodded and rose to his feet. His body still felt drained, but the Light Tree's aura had done its work.
Light led him upward, ascending through a spiraling corridor of translucent stone that shimmered faintly with qi. They emerged into the upper levels of the sect, where sunlight filtered through radiant arches and the air pulsed with quiet power.
He guided Jalen to a pavilion perched above the sanctuary—a structure of open walls and sunstone pillars, overlooking the valley below. It was a place of transition, prepared for this moment. There, folded neatly atop a lacquered cedar bench, lay the ceremonial robes of a Light Clan elder: pure white, stitched with threads of silver qi that shimmered faintly in the morning light.
Jalen washed and changed in silence, the fabric cool against his skin, the weight of the mantle unfamiliar but not unwelcome. As he fastened the final clasp, he caught his reflection in the polished bronze mirror—no longer the wanderer, no longer the outsider. He was something else now. Something more.
Light waited patiently, then led him onward—past the radiant gardens and glowing pools, through the corridor of light-forged arches, and into the Sanctum of Light.
The vast hall was just as Jalen remembered: built directly above the light qi earth vein, its air thick with radiant energy. Over a hundred elders sat in meditative posture, their bodies glowing faintly as they absorbed the qi rising from below. But this time, they were not meditating—they were waiting.
As Jalen entered, the elders turned their gaze toward him. Zakai stood at the far end, his usual smirk replaced by solemn pride.
There was no drawn-out ritual, no speeches or ceremonial flourishes. The induction was swift—deliberate in its simplicity. Zakai stepped forward and placed two items in Jalen's hands: a light-aspect supreme-grade treasure, humming faintly with sealed power, and a golden token etched with the sigil of the Light Clan.
"Jalen Hewitt," Zakai said, his voice echoing across the sanctum, "by the will of the Light Tree and the authority vested in me as Patriarch, I welcome you into the circle of Elders. From this day forward, you stand not beside us—but among us."
The ceremony was brief but meaningful. Jalen bowed respectfully to each elder, exchanging formal greetings. Among them were the familiar faces he'd met upon first arriving in Sunray—Elder Luminous, whose voice carried the clarity of wind over glass; Zohar, the calm and steady observer; Radar, blunt and direct; and Radiance, whose gentle demeanor had first welcomed him.
Their nods carried weight, and Jalen felt a sense of belonging he hadn't expected.
When the formalities ended, Jalen made his way to the recovery chambers to see Calista. She was seated cross-legged on a stone bench, eyes closed, her breathing steady. As he approached, she opened her eyes and stood, bowing deeply.
They exchanged a few quiet words—nothing grand, just the simple cadence of trust forming. Then, without ceremony, Jalen set to work. He gathered the herbs himself, grinding them with practiced hands, infusing the bath with a blend of spirit-soothing lotus, mountain marrow root, and windleaf. When the waters turned a luminous green-blue, he gestured for her to enter.
She stepped in without hesitation, the warmth enveloping her as the healing energies began their work.
Once her body stabilized, Jalen began her training.
He started with the Spirit Wind Art. Calista took to it quickly, her natural affinity allowing her to grasp the basics within days. Then came the earth and water techniques—ones Jalen had adapted from scrolls and texts, despite lacking those affinities himself. He couldn't demonstrate them perfectly, but his understanding was deep enough to guide her.
Calista trained with fierce determination. Within five months, she reached the early Amethyst Realm—a remarkable feat given her condition.
Her progress was hard-won. With three elemental qi types to balance—earth, water, and wind—each breakthrough demanded thrice the effort. Where others might have soared, she had to climb. But climb she did. Her dantian, once a battlefield of clashing forces, now pulsed with a tentative harmony. She had not only advanced—she had endured.
Jalen aided her with medicinal treatments and qi infusions, stabilizing her core and guiding her through the process of internal balance.
During this time, Jalen fulfilled his duties as an elder. He met with disciples, attended council meetings, and grew familiar with the clan's inner workings. The rhythms of the Light Clan became second nature—strategic discussions, medicinal exchanges, sparring sessions, and qi theory debates. What had once been introductions in Sunray now deepened into collaboration. Zohar's quiet insight became a trusted compass. Radiance's herbal wisdom complemented Jalen's own treatments. Radar's blunt critiques sharpened his technique, and Luminous's clarity helped refine his understanding of light qi. They were no longer just elders—Jalen had become one of them.
But despite the peace, Jalen knew his time in Sunray was nearing its end.
Though he had not managed to increase his realm as he set out from the start, he had acquired great power—unexpectedly becoming an elder of a powerful and ancient clan and training his disciple. Now, he needed to prepare for what lay ahead. The cultivator from Kanto Ridge would be free in nine years and a few months. Jalen needed power—power that would take years to cultivate. And for that, he needed time itself.
This meant his next move was to find a realm where time flowed differently—faster than the real world. Such places were rare, often hidden or sealed, but they existed. He'd been to one before with the Origin Shard's help, of course. But even so, he would find one without it.
He also needed to understand the eternal grade spirt that called itself him. What's it or his true nature? What other secrets did it hold? What power could it unlock?